


Catalyst

by KariahBengalii



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lydia is a self-centered bitch in this, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Sexual Content, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, and she gets whats coming to her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 23:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8227927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KariahBengalii/pseuds/KariahBengalii
Summary: In which Lydia graciously invites Stiles into bed with her and Jackson and there are consequences she didn't predict.





	

Lydia Martin was strong, perfect, beautiful. She had a hot boyfriend, the captain of the lacrosse team, and a back up geek boy, who was also gorgeous, incredibly awkward, and head over heels in love with her. She was living the life.

The only problem was that her relationship with Jackson had been going downhill lately. She wasn’t sure what the problem was and she was debating breaking up with him. If she did that, then she’d go out with Stiles. But she had a problem with that--she needed to make sure Stiles was good in bed first. Test drive him, so to speak. That was a definite perk of dating Jackson--he was brilliant in bed.

So she devised a plan: she would tell Jackson she wanted to have a threesome including Stiles and see how he performed. It wouldn’t be cheating that way, she reasoned.

She brought it up after they had sex that night.

“Hey, Jackson,” she said. She received a mumbled groan which she assumed meant, “continue Lydia, you gorgeous, perfect woman.” She did. “I was wondering whether you wanted to...um...involve someone else in our sex life, just once,” she said.

Jackson’s eyes flew open. “A threesome?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Uhm...Stiles.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll never agree to that.”

Lydia laughed. “Leave that up to me,” she said.

Jackson nodded, and fell asleep promptly.

Lydia let herself out.

* * *

 

The next day, Lydia broached the subject to Stiles. “Hey,” she said, “want to have sex with me?”

Stiles’ eyes almost fell out of his head. “With you?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah,” she said.

“But you have a boyfriend,” Stiles said.

“Yeah,” Lydia said, shrugging, “he’ll be there too.”

Stiles gulped. “He’s not going to say yes to that.”

“He already did,” Lydia said, “come over to his house tonight at eight.”

Stiles nodded mutely, and Lydia flounced away.

* * *

 

Lydia was there at seven thirty, eagerly awaiting Stiles. Jackson sat on the couch, sprawled out and watching TV. When he heard Stiles’ jeep pull into his driveway, he nodded to Lydia, who bounced happily over to the door and dragged Stiles inside and straight up to his bedroom. Jackson followed quickly.

Lydia stripped off her clothes seductively, biting her lip and glancing at the boys through her eyelashes, before climbing slowly on the bed. Stiles stripped his clothes off faster, eager to start.

Jackson moved behind him, settling his hands on Stiles’ hips. “Shh,” he whispered in Stiles’ ear. “Just watch. Slowly. It’ll come.”

Stiles whimpered as Jackson helped him take his clothes off, preventing him from falling over or in general being a clutz. Jackson got out of his own clothes quickly. Lydia sprawled out on Jackson’s bed, naked, trailing her hands over her body, and staring at Stiles.

Stiles gulped and looked nervously at Jackson, as though unsure this was really allowed. Jackson gave him a light shove towards the bed and Stiles climbed up, kissing Lydia, fulfilling his dreams.

Jackson stood and started jacking off, watching Stiles on top of Lydia, watching how awkward and adorable he was. He finally took a deep breath in and moved over to the bed, crawling on after them.

Stiles nipped at Lydia’s nipple, his fingers rubbing her clit as she arched deliciously under him. He heard the click of the top of a bottle opening and assumed Jackson wanted Lydia’s ass. He slid up and bent over her more to give Jackson room to work. He was surprised when cold fingers touched his ass instead. He tried not to think about how that wasn’t meant to happen, how it would hurt.

Lydia, too, expected to feel Jackson’s fingers in her ass soon afterward. She felt Stiles move up slightly to adjust his position so Jackson could move into position, but the touch never came.

Instead, she watched as Stiles’ eyes opened wide briefly in shock, and then his features twisted into a strange, trusting contentment. It was an expression she’d never seen on his face before, and she wanted to redirect his attention to her. She reached down and grabbed his cock, and Stiles’ eyes snapped back to her. She guided him to her entrance and Stiles pushed in carefully, eyes on her. But then, Jackson must have brushed his fingers over that special place inside Stiles’ ass, because he moaned, eyes closing in pleasure, and arching back into Jackson.

Jackson watched as his fingers moved inside Stiles and the boy trembled with pleasure. He laved his tongue over Stiles’ back and nipped lightly at it. He inserted a third finger into Stiles’ ass and punctuated it with a hard nip to Stiles’ shoulder blade followed by a succession of kisses down his spine.

Lydia squirmed beneath Stiles, trying to get him to move. Stiles began to, almost automatically, not thinking about it at all, his concentration more on Jackson's fingers stretching him open than on his cock where it was buried in Lydia's cunt.

"Mmm, huhh, Jackson," Stiles moaned.

Lydia tried to bring Stiles' attention back to her, but Jackson must've finally brought his cock to Stiles' hole because Stiles whimpered and pulled out from her, thrusting back into Jackson. Stiles' face contorted in exquisite pain as Jackson pushed steadily into him.

Finally, Lydia supposed that Jackson had bottomed out inside Stiles' ass because Stiles shook slightly and then began moaning, thrusting back slightly. Jackson leant up and pressed himself to Stiles' back and whispered, "You okay?" into his ear.

Fury burned within Lydia. How dare he ask Stiles questions and be sweet to him? How dare he, when he'd only ever treated her as a hole to fuck? Stiles whimpered and nodded and pushed back into Jackson. Jackson grinned ferally and pulled out slowly to slam his cock back into Stiles' ass.

Finally, Lydia felt something. Jackson's thrusts were slamming Stiles' cock into her at last. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," she hissed appreciatively, but neither Jackson nor Stiles were paying attention to her. Stiles was too busy moaning and Jackson was murmuring what sounded like sweet nothings in his ear.

Jackson stopped his thrusting and Stiles whined, pulling himself out of Lydia to search out Jackson's cock again. Stiles thrust frantically between her body and Jackson's as his orgasm approached. Lydia thought for sure he'd want his cock buried in her pussy when he came, but instead he shoved backward, slamming Jackson's cock up his ass as far as it would go. He yelled out as he came and his ass clenching around Jackson's cock made the other boy come as well.

Lydia didn't come, but she frowned and faked it. Definitely staying with Jackson, then.

Stiles pulled out of her and Jackson shifted his weight sideways so both of them were lying beside her.

She closed her eyes briefly, reopening them to see that Jackson was curled up into Stiles back, arms tight around the other boy's stomach as Stiles kept his eyes closed contentedly and cuddled back into him.

Lydia glared at them and then rolled over and went to bed, deciding she'd be damned if she'd let Stiles stay in Jackson's bed longer than her. After all, she was his girlfriend.

When Lydia awoke the next morning, both Jackson and Stiles were gone. She rather hoped that Jackson had shown him out early that morning so that she could get morning sex. She was still pissed about not coming the night before.

She got up and looked for Jackson’s robe, which he usually kept on the back of his door, but it was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he’d gone down to make them breakfast or coffee or something. So she rummaged around in his drawers again to find a t-shirt that was big enough to cover her. Then she opened the door and walked slowly down the stairs. From the kitchen, she heard voices. Jackson telling Stiles to get out, then.

She was surprised when she walked into the kitchen to see Stiles sitting on a barstool at the counter and eating toast while Jackson made them both coffee, an animated conversation about some movies she’d never bothered watching taking place all the while. It wasn’t until Jackson turned around and saw her over Stiles’ head that they even knew she was there. His eyes went wide and Stiles spun around quickly to see her, too.

“Lydia,” Jackson said, his voice almost a growl, “get out.”

She blinked in shock. “Me?!” she yelled, outraged. How dare he send her away while Stiles stayed? How dare he?

“Yes, you. Out,” Jackson said, his voice resembling a growl more than actual words, but she had some sense of self-preservation and retreated quietly, vowing her revenge at a later time.

Stiles watched her go, but then quickly turned back to Jackson. “You okay, Jacks?” he asked.

Jackson didn’t respond, but his head spun quickly from where Lydia had stood to where Stiles was sitting and then the tension bled out of him. “Yeah,” he said, “thanks.”

Stiles nodded. “So, how about that coffee?”

Jackson grinned at him and spun back around to the coffeepot, relaxing once again.

* * *

 

After they’d eaten, Stiles dragged Jackson out to the living room and dragged him down beside him on the couch. “So,” he began, “we need to talk about Lydia.”

Jackson started growling menacingly again.

“Hey!” Stiles said, lightly cuffing Jackson on the side of the head. “Don’t worry about it! I just want to know why you’re so growly.”

Jackson turned back to Stiles and something passed through his eyes quickly before it was gone. “I don’t want to talk about this, Stiles,” he said, turning away again.

Stiles frowned and reached for the side of his head, pulling it so they could look at one another again. He knew that Jackson could have not moved and all he would have managed would have been to have injured his arm, but Jackson allowed it, so Stiles thought that was a good sign. “Please,” he said, trying to do the thing where he begged with his eyes, like Scott.

Jackson smirked at him, so he figured it didn’t really work, but then he relented. “Fine,” he sighed, “let’s talk about Lydia.”

Stiles smiled at him. “Why are you reacting the way you are around her?”

“I can...well, wolves can...smell emotions?”

“Right, okay, smelling emotions. And you...don’t like hers?”

“No, I don’t. She...she smelled like anger and frustration and hatred and everything bad. I...I hadn’t really noticed before, but she’s always smelled like that--everything bad. Anger, deceit, frustration, hatred, annoyance, dislike, scorn...the list goes on.”

“What do you think made you finally realize it?” Stiles asked.

“Well…” Jackson looked away and blushed infinitesimally before continuing, “you.”

“Me?” Stiles asked, shocked.

“Yeah,” Jackson said, “you smelled like I’d always believed she did. Goodness and kindness and warmth and protection and home and…”

Stiles smiled at him. “Home?” he asked, hardly daring to hope.

Jackson blushed deeper this time. “Like I want to curl up in and around you and never leave,” he clarified.

It was Stiles’ turn to blush. “Yeah, uh, um, well…”

“Stilinski?” Jackson asked, voice amused.

“Well, obviously I can’t, like, smell emotions, right? So I kinda have to make due with mine and stuff and how things make me feel and last night...well, maybe you kinda felt like home, too?” he rambled.

Jackson smiled at him, reclined on the couch, and tugged Stiles into his lap, ignoring Stiles’ squawk of protest. He pressed his nose against Stiles’ scalp and inhaled, doing a weird sort of wolfy purring and snuggling him.

“Dude, gross! I haven’t showered!” Stiles yelped.

Jackson’s purring was briefly interrupted by a low rumbling laugh. “Mine,” he growled out.


End file.
